A/N: Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed on LiveJournal, your guys' support means a lot :)! And I know posting all these at once are gonna cause a serious dent in reviews on FF . Net, but thanks to everyone who reads!
A/N for S: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!
A/N for T: Stupid Sin City.
S is for Surprise
Rated K+
"I don't know what to do," She moaned.
"Why do anything? Let it sort itself out."
Her look said, clearly, that that was not an option. That, hell or high water, she would fix this. Alec sighed. He really hadn't expected to spend his afternoon like this.
But how could he? Hell, he hadn't seen her for years. Surprise was a mild term for what had gripped him when he'd jogged across the marble foyer and pulled open the front door and it had been her face peering up at him. Surprise had quickly turned into wariness when she'd asked for his help. But, hey, Alec was a helpful guy, and how could he turn her down, given their history?
Which is why they were now sitting across from each other, on the pristine white of his couches in his oversized, overpriced living room, while she illuminated the problem to him. Not that he much understood it, anyway.
"I don't really see what the problem is." Alec reiterated, leaning forward over his knees. "So there's an age difference, big deal."
"Big deal? It is a big deal!"
"Why?" He threw back. "You think your eyes are being clouded? That his are? That there's some misplaced, misguided yearning for a parent figure at work?"
Her eyes swung to him, like the thought horrified her. "It's not that," She snapped. "It's just that we've been together for so long…" She trailed off, pensive, finally admitting, like she didn't want to, like she was making an excuse, "Maybe there is a little bit of family vibe, there."
Alec made a face but somehow managed to keep the smile and the laughter in. She focused on his amused eyes, her own narrowing.
"This isn't funny, this is a crisis!"
"Hardly," he drawled. "White coming back from the dead? That's a crisis. The second coming of the Cult? That's a crisis. Your love life, however…"
Her steely glare shut him up. Not because he was scared of her, because it just compounded his amusement and he was worried he might laugh in her face. He didn't want to be a jerk, he was getting too old for that.
Her eyes took on a calculating gleam as his own softened. "Maybe you can fix this."
"Me?!" He sat up abruptly.
"Talk to him. Maybe he'll listen to you."
"Why the hell would he do that?" Alec scoffed. Hell, Alec hadn't seen him in years, either… since Alec had last seen her actually, and the two had disappeared into the night, together. And they hadn't been on good terms, anyway, because Alec had been dating her and he… well… he'd been as moody as a pubescent boy.
"Just tell him I don't think about him like that. That the age difference… it's just… it just won't work! Tell him anything!" She glanced up at him, almost desperate. "Tell him you're interested in me, for all I care, just get him off my back!"
He watched her for a moment, silent. When his voice came, it was commanding and authoritative and it got on her nerves, because it dredged up some guilt within her, a feeling of smallness that she didn't much care for. "I'm not going to fight your battle for you." He watched her shoulders slump. He shrugged, a little apologetic. "Besides, maybe you haven't noticed, but I'm not exactly unattached." He waggled the fingers of his left hand at her and a gold band glinted in the light of the afternoon sun.
Her eyes fixated on that flash of gold in surprise.
"I have a wife," He proffered gently, lowering his hand. "And a son. In the face of that, telling him I'm interested in you just wouldn't be very believable. You're just going to have to find a way to be honest."
She gaped at him. "You… you're married?!"
"Don't sound all shocked," He huffed. "Is it so hard to believe that someone would be interested in long term with me?"
"No," She shook her head. "I just… never figured you for the type." She admitted it grudgingly, an irrational surge of jealousy rising up. It was probably because of what he had, what she was still searching for, not for the man himself. Then again...
Maybe that spark of envy was because of a chance unrealized, because of what-ifs and maybes. They had dated, a long, long time ago. It was before the bombs dropped, she remembered. But it hadn't lasted. They'd been together for the wrong reasons, for loneliness, for fear, for sex. But never for love… When transgenic nation had gone underground so many years ago, she'd gone one way, her current problem, the man that professed his undying love, that had pulled a diamond ring from his pocket a few days ago, going with her, and Alec… well, he'd taken his own predictable path. The split had been amiable, they'd both known it'd end sooner or later, that nothing would come of it, but still… He was so happy… She was so not happy… She couldn't help but wonder… if she'd fought harder for him, would she be the one secure, possessing that undefeatable calm that a strong bond of love could bring?
The front door slammed, and she started.
"That'll be the Missus," Alec's eyes warmed and she hated him a little bit, envied him, for his happiness. She turned in her chair, towards the archway that opened in from the front hallway, in time to see a woman, a toddler on her hip, step through. Eyes connected and two women started in astonishment.
"Gem?" Max said in surprise, just as Gem was exclaiming, "Max?"
"What are you doing here?" They asked simultaneously.
"What am I doing here? I live here!" Like that answer wasn't obvious, with a boy in her arms that couldn't be anything other than Alec's. She shifted squirming bundle from one hip to the other. "What are you doing here?"
"I was in the area, so I looked Alec up,"
They were eyeing each other, sizing each other up, two cats circling the same tom.
"Be honest," Alec interjected, seemingly oblivious to the strange undercurrent sizzling between the two women. "You didn't really come to see me. Tell her why you're really here."
Silence reigned for a long moment. "I didn't know what else to do," She finally admitted aloud, relaxing. Whatever it was that she and Alec had had, it was over a long time ago, and she was only even here because of another man. "I was in the area, and I saw a broadcast; Senator McDowall." Her voice was a bit amused as her eyes swung between the two. Finally, she slumped back into cushions. "Maybe it was stupid idea, but like I said… I don't know what else to do."
"She got a marriage proposal," Alec supplied to his wife. "And she's worried about the age difference."
"Age difference?" Max made a face, finally lowering her son to the ground.
"Dalton proposed to me," Gem buried her face into her hands.
Alec snorted again, and Gem glared at him through her fingertips. He couldn't help it though. Every time she said it, a little thrill of amusement raced through him. He couldn't have been more surprised than if she'd shown up on his doorstep to declare that the sky was green and grass was pink and the whole world was upside down.
Max watched Joshua bolt towards his toy truck, still abandoned in the corner from when she'd picked him up to take him to the park. Her eyes darted to Alec, like, I told you to clean that up, but his eyes glanced tellingly at Gem, so maybe he'd gotten distracted. She stifled the irrational surge of annoyance.
Max told herself that even if Gem and Alec had used to date, when they'd all left T.C., it was Max that Alec had chosen, had followed, and it was Gem that had let him go. What they'd had was over a long time ago, and Max, happily married to him for many a year, had no reason to be jealous. She should be welcoming Gem warmly into her home.
Her words grated harshly past her lips. "So Dalton proposed. Big deal. What's so wrong with that?" With a slight undercurrent of, and what is Alec supposed to do about it, hussy? Alec's eyes cut to her in amusement before focusing again on the redhead sitting across from him.
Gem was oblivious to Max's annoyance, caught up as she was in her own problems. "I've been taking care of him since he was 13 and I was 22. Doesn't that seem a little odd to you?"
"You're talking to a woman that tried to date a man over twelve years older than her for a good three years." Alec pointed out. Max scowled and Gem glanced up.
"That's right, I forgot about him." She blinked, registering, again, that it was Max that Alec was married to and last she'd checked, over eight years ago, even though Gem had frequently been wary of Max and Alec's hot and cold relationship, there hadn't been anything there that hinted at romance. "Whatever happened to Logan?"
Max made a face. Even after five years, it was still kind of grating. "I don't know. He refuses to talk to us." For an older man, he needed to grow up and get over it. She'd been understanding and patient for the first year, but when he was still being snide to Alec almost a year into their marriage, when he was still acting like he was holding out for a cure (like that could somehow fix all their problems, could make her love for Alec evaporate) Max had finally had enough, and as much as it'd pained her, she'd told him to get over it or go away. She hadn't expected him to choose 'go away,' she'd thought he was better than that.
A knock on the front door startled them all, and Max turned as whoever it was didn't wait for an answer, just made his way in through one of the large double doors. That's the problem with being a transgenic in the spotlight; other trannies were always stopping by... and none of 'em believed in personal space. It was a young man that was looking curiously around, hardly caring he'd just stepped into a prominant Senator's home without even an invite.
She had to give him some credit, though. At 22, Dalton was much better looking than what he'd been at 13. He'd grown into himself, and that easy, confident swagger reminded her of her husband, when he'd been that age.
"Max?" Dalton stopped in surprise. More like Alec than she'd thought. That easiness, that charisma, some of it was real, but a lot of it was a pleasant cover, hiding a bit of vulnerability beneath. He straightened under her weighing eyes. "I knew you were still alive, I didn't know-"
"Do you always bust into people's homes without waiting for an answer?" She demanded, an eyebrow arching. She played gracious hero for most of the week, polite to every politician she met, even the ones that made her clench her teeth, the ones that were more interested in her breasts than in her impressive military record. Today was her day off and this was her turf.
And she'd had plans today. Dealing with one of Alec's exes, as remote an ex as Gem was, was not one of them.
Plus, Gem… Gem had been the one that she'd thought Alec would settle down with, perhaps the only girlfriend he'd ever had that she'd felt threatened by. She'd been half afraid, when they'd all left T.C., that he'd go with Gem and not with her, and it wasn't until she'd looked at it all in retrospect that she'd recognized the first signs of jealousy, the first hints that she'd wanted him for herself, that she wasn't quite sure what she would do without him. But that was neither here nor there. Today was supposed to be their day. Gem was not on the list. Tiring Josh out at the park and taking advantage of one of their few days off, now that had definitely been on the list.
She sighed. When was she going to learn that life refused to fall in with her plans? You'd think she'd have learned her lesson ages ago; after all, look at who she'd married.
"Come on, Max, aren't you happy to see me?" Dalton flipped on the charm, smiling crookedly. But come on, Max was married to the person that had indirectly taught Dalton that technique, and if Alec's easy charisma had never made her swoon, Dalton's sure as hell wouldn't, either.
"Gem's in the living room," She supplied, her face bland. She could hear Gem's sound of protest, but tough. Max was doing the woman a favor. It'd taken Max years to realize that just being honest was the best path in the long run, that avoidance and lies never brought anyone anything other than heartache and pain. Better for Gem to just give it to the boy (oh man, she was getting old, she'd just called a 22 year old a boy) straight, rather than dancing around it.
Dalton brushed past her, falling still on pristine carpeting, glancing up at the chandelier, across to the wide screen TV, the order, and cleanliness, and that hint of poshness. "Well, you guys have done well for yourselves."
"What gave it away?" Alec snarked back. "The TV or the brick wall you had to climb over to get in here?"
"I think it was the six frickin' miles of driveway I had to hike up," Dalton grinned.
The two men connected immediately, kindred kind of spirits, easily forgetting the surliness that Dalton had used to throw at him so many years ago (and that now made sense, considering Dalton's feelings for Gem). Max and Gem shared a look of exasperation.
"And you," Dalton turned on Gem, green eyes narrowing. "Would you please stop avoiding me?"
"Dalton-" Gem sighed.
"I get it, I'm young and hot, and you're over the hill, ready to be put out to pasture." Dalton frowned. Gem's mouth worked in horror. Over the hill?! She was only 31! Dalton eyes glinted in amusement, but his voice remained stern. "Now would you please give me a yes or no answer?"
Max's mouth opened, her natural protective instincts coming to the forefront. It wasn't as easy as all that. Had to give someone a chance to think after a question that big.
She'd given Alec a week before she'd started trying to corner him and it'd been almost two weeks before she forced an answer out of him.
Okay, so she hadn't been exactly patient after she'd popped the question. But in her defense, he'd been taking too long. He should have said yes immediately, even if her casual demand hadn't been romantic, even if, like he insisted, she had sounded a little bitchy when she'd asked. But how was that her fault? She'd been scared out of her mind, and hadn't really wanted to be the one to ask, anyway. But she'd had to ask, because he never would have asked her. Big idiot that he was, he'd still been waiting for the terrible day in which she would declare that their whole relationship was a horrible mistake and she was going back to Logan.
Alec's eyes connected with her, like he too was remembering and her mouth fell shut before she could defend Gem. Maybe it was better for Gem to just be honest, so everyone could get on with their lives.
Predictably, Gem sighed, looked a bit lost, and finally she said, "No," in a soft voice that sounded a little pained.
Dalton nodded a bit, like he'd been expecting that. He didn't say anything to Max or Alec, but he was so tense, so obviously hiding defeat beneath the stoniness, that they couldn't fault him for bursting in and then walking out. Gem stared after him, a little lost, a little sad, and she jerked a bit when she heard the front door slam.
"Well," Max arched an eyebrow.
Gem looked at her, still standing in the archway. "Well, what?"
"Are you going after him or what?"
"What?!"
Max rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't be this worked up about it unless a small part of you had wanted to say yes. And you wouldn't have come over here unless you wanted someone to talk you out of it, to remind you that you're no good for him or something."
"He should be going after girls his own age, someone he can start a life with," Gem defended. "Not after a woman that has a nine year old waiting at home, that thinks of him as a kid brother."
"Please," Max scoffed. "I've said enough excuses in my own life to know one when I hear it. Will you please go and ask him out on a date before he finds someone in a bar that can numb the pain and hurt you both?"
Guess she'd never considered that possibility, because Gem was out the door before Alec could even tell her she was welcome to stay for dinner.
"What?" He asked as Max turned to glare at him.
"You were about to offer her dinner."
"So?"
"I told you, today was for 'us' time,"
"Come on, Max, how often do we get to see old friends?"
Max's scowl deepened.
Her husband's eyes took on a calculating gleam. "You're not… jealous… are you, Max?"
"What?" She stomped across the room, threw herself onto the couch next to him, her eyes staying firmly on her two year old, obliviously happy to grown-up drama as he rammed his truck into a pile of blocks. "Yeah right." But her head leaned into his shoulder, and her hand rested atop Alec's thigh, almost possessively.
He shifted and his arm fell around her shoulders, warm and soothing. "You shoulda heard it when she first came in. It was like déjà vu."
"What do you mean?" She glanced up into warm eyes.
"Remember that conversation we had about seven years ago?" Her blank look told him they'd had a lot of conversations seven years ago, because they'd had a lot to talk about. They'd just defeated the Cult, and were dealing with the fallout of being overnight heroes, dealing with burgeoning feelings and Logan always breathing down their necks. "You know," Alec said impatiently. "Right after Logan proposed."
"I don't see how the situations are similar," Max grumped. "She wasn't proposed to by a guy she could kill. Dalton's proposal wasn't based on a contingency status of 'when we find the cure.'" She glanced away, muttering "Still think the only reason Logan did it was because he was beginning to feel threatened by you and wanted to tie me down."
"Okay," Alec conceded, "So the situation was a little different. But word for word, it was almost exactly like the conversation we had. It was like listening to a tape recording, I almost thought she was you."
Max rolled her eyes.
"She even asked me to take care of it."
Max blushed. "So it is a little similar," She admitted.
"Then she asked if I'd pretend interest in her, so he would back off."
"Okay, so it's a lot similar." She scowled. "What did you say?"
"Told her the same thing I told you," He said, all seriousness.
If she remembered correctly, and she did, he'd called her a callous bitch, and asked her how she could ask him that when they both knew how he felt about her. And she'd gaped like an idiot. That was right before he'd batted her hand away, and stepped in, and there was all that kissing.
Max blinked in confusion. "You called her a bitch and kissed her?" Alec rolled his eyes, and she hated when he did that, because when he did, Max was hard-pressed to remember that they were thirty and well-respected members of society.
"Of course not. What do you think I said?" He demanded, still serious. "I said the love of my life, my little schnooky bear, would never go for it, that it would probably make her burst into dainty, ladylike tears of unhappiness."
She stared at him for a long moment, again, trying to decide whether or not he was joking. His face finally split into a grin. She'd known him for ten years. They'd been together for seven of them, and married for five, but sometimes she still had trouble figuring him out. He said it kept things interesting. She said he was the poster child for divorce. There was usually sex afterwards, so neither of them minded.
"I'd say I hate you," Max started with a sigh.
"But we both know you'd be lying," He finished for her, a soft kiss glancing across the top of her hair. Like usual, there was that soft sense of wonder, the hint of childlike surprise, as she turned her face up to him and agreed.
Alec looked back at Josh, still playing with his truck. "Time for somebody's nap."
Her booted foot caught him in the ass as he leapt from the couch, and he yelped, but it didn't deter him from his mission; Operation Max and Alec Alone Time was officially in effect.
T is for Taste
Rated T+
The bouncer was female. Max hadn't been counting on that. Usually she could just put a sway in her walk, drop a slow, feline smile, and she'd be let in, no problem. But the back door bouncer was a six foot female with more muscles than some men she knew, and her eyes flicked over the hopefuls in cool, unaffected disinterest; weighing them for the services they could provide, not for how her own blood reacted. Which, actually, was fairly intelligent on the part of the Pussycat Lounge. She turned to Max, giving her a quick once over. She shook her head in disinterest, turning to look at the woman standing next to Max instead.
Max's mouth dropped open in unchecked shock. "What?" She demanded.
The bouncer's eyes flicked back to her, and there was a bit of an accent there that Max couldn't place. "Sorry, honey, not tonight."
"Are you kidding?!" Max's face twisted in annoyance. She didn't say it but she did think it; she was hotter than most of the sleaze-bags there. The skankily dressed woman by her side was still preening, puffing out her already more than generous chest, doing her best to win back the club picker's attention.
The bouncer rolled her eyes, pointing at the girl at Max's side, and thumbed her to the back. Max scowled and the woman finally laughed, leaning over Max's smaller form.
"Sorry, I know all you girls gotta make a living… But next time," Her hard eyes flicked down to Max's tanktop, her jeans. "Next time, why don't you dress the part? This is a strip club. How the hell you think you can dance in jeans?"
"No go," Max slipped back into the car.
"No go?" Logan asked, frowning. "What do you mean, no go?"
"No go." She repeated firmly. "Apparently I'm not skeazy enough to make it in," Max shrugged, not terribly upset. Last thing she wanted was to be pawed at while workin' for her sort-of boyfriend. "Guess you'll have to find some other prostitution ring to bust." Logan scowled at how pleased she sounded.
"Max, it's not about the prostitution." Logan frowned, putting the car into drive, pulling away from the curb slowly, looking over his shoulder to check for oncoming traffic. Max didn't say that in this area of town, he needed to worry more about drunks stumbling into the road in front of them than other cars behind; sometimes Max thought that Logan had forgotten about a little thing called the Pulse. Guess it was easy to do when you lived in Fogle Towers.
Her mind caught up to the conversation, realizing that Logan was still brooding petulantly on his side of the car. What did he mean, not about the prostitution? Max turned to look at him, her eyebrow arching.
"Well," he amended guiltily, keeping his eyes on the road. "I mean, it is, but more importantly, it's about the slave ring that helps feed the prostitution. Girls nabbed off the street all over the world and sold here…" He glanced away. "Or, at least, that's what we're trying to prove."
Max huffed in disgust, turning to stare out the window. "Why would they even let girls in off the streets of Seattle to strip if they're providing all the flesh they could ever need?"
"I don't know... Maybe for variety?"
Max eyed him, trying to control her 'wow, that was lame,' reaction. Seemed like his intel on this case was a little shaky... Guess that's why he'd brought her in to look around.
"Variety is the spice of life. Fresh faces every time you come in, it keeps people interested, keeps people coming back." Logan said blandly, guessing, correctly, that Max hadn't bought his half-cocked conclusion. Guess that makes sense... Max scowled at how disgusting men, sans Logan, were, as he continued, "Plus, all the other strip clubs do it, and they need to blend in, make people think they really are a regular club."
"Well, they're not letting me in," She shrugged. "Guess you'll have to find something else to take down."
"Max," Logan said warningly.
"Forget it, Logan."
"Max, this is important."
She turned to scowl at him. "I said no."
Max fidgeted, pulling the mini-skirt a little bit lower, the tight top a little bit higher, knowing it was useless. Walking would, and did, ruin her adjustments anyway. It was the same tall woman working the back door, dressed in a business suit this time, so maybe she wasn't just some bit-rate bouncer after all. Dark eyes flicked over Max's long blonde wig, the eyeliner and the lip-gloss, across the tight red corset top and black leather miniskirt, all the way down to the black high heels. Her eyes went back up to the long tresses of the honey gold wig and she pursed her lips in thought for a long moment. Finally, she nodded approvingly.
"Much better," So the woman did remember her from the night before, after all. Max got waved into the back as the woman turned and shooed all the other hopefuls away, having filled her quota for the evening.
Max was moving down the dark corridor, her heels clicking against concrete, the thumping music beating in time with her heart, when a hand caught her wrist and she whirled in surprise. The tall, muscular woman frowned, pulling away. "Jumpy, aren't you?"
"Sorry," She muttered. Then her head cocked to the side and she giggled absentmindedly, vacantly, in her best 'blonde' voice, "Guess I'm just nervous or something,"
The woman arched one thin eyebrow. "That might work on some men, honey, but it won't on me." She released Max's wrist, reached up and fingered a long, fake lock of blonde hair. Max resisted the urge to smack her hand away. She was glad she did when the woman continued.
"My name is Katina. I'm the owner of this club." There was a bit of an accent there, after all. Russian, maybe. It came and it went; guess she'd been living here a long time, long enough to soften the thickness of her voice.
Max smiled slowly, her eyes vacuous. "My name's Dorothy."
"Somehow I doubt that." Her dark eyes were flicking over Max's ensemble, judging, weighing. Finally, her plain, wide face split into a warm smile, but her eyes weren't anything but calculating. "That might work for some of those fisherman traps by the docks, but here we're a little bit more refined… more uniform in appearance…"
Refined? Yeah right. Max dropped the dumb blonde act and huffed in annoyance. "You told me to dress the part."
Katina's smile didn't even flag, further proof it was just a professional veneer. "Have to know if you can… how you say… walk the walk and talk the talk?"
Her voice got snappy despite her best efforts. "And your point is?"
Katina squeezed around her in the small hallway, her broad form stepping surely into the dressing room beyond. Max followed a little grudgingly, conscious of the ear piece still between her breasts, waiting to be hooked up, her two-way connection to Logan. The woman glanced again at Max, quickly, measuring, before turning to a rack and pulling something off. "Point is, less clothes you are wearing in the back door, the more I know what you are capable of wearing out those doors over there." She gestured towards the heavy swinging doors that led into the club proper before she tossed the hanger to Max. "Put this on."
Judging by the outfit, guess Katina had a lot of faith in how few clothes Max could pull off.
Logan owed her so, SO big.
Katina hung around outside the curtains as Max slipped on the bra and the underwear. The earpiece went into her ear, under her wig, but remained off for now. She stared mistrusting at the final piece of the costume. "What is this," She muttered, eyeing the leather chaps, "Rodeo night?"
Logan didn't even KNOW how big he owed her. For the first time in her life, she pondered smacking him upside the head next time she saw him.
The owner's eyes flicked over her approvingly as she stepped out from behind the red drapes in her own high heels. "How are you with rope?"
Max swallowed. If she had to get up on a stage and swing a lasso around because of Logan, she was breaking up with him and that was final.
"Just kidding," Katina smiled, some of her accent bleeding through. "Is joke, yes?"
Very funny. She tried to keep her annoyance to herself. "Why are you helping me?" Max frowned. "Don't you have people to do this for you?"
The Russian smiled. "You, you I have particular use for. One of my best customers, he has a thing for blondes."
Max kept her face neutral. The woman was no slouch, she'd probably be a little put off if Max seemed disgusted by the job she'd been let in here to do. "It's a wig," Max pointed out.
"Doesn't matter," Katina was still smiling, nodding, calculating. "You… you I think he will like…" She glanced away muttering something about the fact he hadn't shown up in a while and blah, blah, blah, the woman was trying to win back one of her favorite customers… who gives a crap? Max would smile at the stupid, pervy old man, wait until Katina left, and slip away before the pig tried to paw at her.
Katina had seen many things in her time. She'd had a hard life; too many husbands, not enough love... Money, at the end of the day, it had to be money that bought happiness for women like her. Which is how she'd dipped her hand into her newest gig and found a market where she could actually do some good, help other women. And of course there was the very lucrative strip club that helped fund her operation... necessary evil that it was, no one could deny she treated her girls far better than they did in any of those claptraps over in Sector 9. She'd come a long way from Russia, from home, from that large, awkward girl of 15, forced into marriage with a man that couldn't find work, could always find the bottom of a bottle, and didn't know the meaning of the word 'tenderness'. Flying all over the world, running her business, strippers and prostitutes in and out of her life, avoiding the heavy hand of the mob and police on the take... Katina was made of steel. Needless to say, very little fazed her.
She was slightly put off, however, when Alec McDowall took one look at the beautiful girl she had taken in off of the street and started laughing.
"You don't like?" Katina almost seemed a little flustered, her cheeks turning as red as her hair, before her broad face went grim and she turned on Max. Max got the feeling that the woman was about to take out her embarrassment by kicking her out of the club.
"No, no, Katina, it's fine," Alec said entreatingly, pulling the woman's attention back as he barely spared a glance at Max's glowering form. "I just forgot that it was western wear night, I guess."
Max glanced around at the other women in the club, similarly dressed (some less so), most with cowboy hats, and rolled her eyes. Idiot.
"Is okay, then? Everything is good?"
Alec smiled winningly, his tongue flicking between his teeth, just for a moment, in wickedness. His eyes swung slowly back to Max. "Fantastic."
"Good," Katina nodded briskly, all business once more. "Hope to see you again, soon, then."
"Do I even need to ask what the hell you're doing here?" Max hissed as the owner walked away, intent upon the bar now that her 'mission' had been taken care of. "Or should I just pretend astonishment that your disgustingness has no bounds, after all."
"Uh huh. That's fascinating, Max," Alec frowned dryly. "'Cuz I already know why you're here."
Max froze. "You know?!" He knew about the slavery/prostitution ring and he hadn't done anything about it?
"Maybe not the details, but I do know one thing… The only reason you'd be here is because Logan sent you." He scoffed, before grinning again. "Is Eyes Only monitoring all of this from mission control or is he waiting outside with a parked car for the getaway?"
Her hands folded protectively under her breasts (she wouldn't be doing that if she knew how even more fascinating that made them look, he thought wryly) and she tried to pretend like it was easy to glower when you're standing before a man in nothing but some dark, ornamental underwear, skintight leather chaps, and three inch heels. "This place happens to be a brothel and slave ring in disguise." She huffed.
Alec smiled slowly. "You don't say," He looked at her, like he knew something she didn't, and it made her angry, angry enough to lean forward and start telling him off, so she was surprised when his eyes flicked past her and a fifty dollar bill was suddenly waving in front of her nose, almost sending her cross eyed.
"Sheath your claws," He murmured, "Katina is watching you."
Max straightened slowly, for all the world giving the impression that she'd just wanted to show off her cleavage. "Why she want to impress you anyway?" Her eyes darted over her shoulder, quickly.
"My attendance at strip clubs has dropped off dramatically," Alec said dryly, slipping the fifty back into his jeans. "And she's always liked me for some reason… me and my money." He amended. What wasn't to like? He was handsome, charming, generous with his cash, always good to the girls... Katina would kill for more regulars like him.
"If you're not big into clubs anymore, what are you even doing here?" She hissed.
Alec gestured with a thumb. "It's his birthday." Max followed his point, glanced across the room… and rolled her eyes. Even from this distance, it looked like Normal was about to float away on a cloud of euphoria.
"Men," She huffed in disugst.
"Yeah, yeah," He scowled, "I was doin' a good job of ignoring everyone until Katina forced you on me. So start dancing or you're going to get us both kicked out." He settled back into the chair, smiling evilly.
"Not on your life!"
"Okay," He sniffed. "Get thrown out. Fail at your mission, I don't care." He sighed. "And here I was thinkin' if you did a convincing enough of a job, I'd take you to the back."
Max froze. "What's in the back?"
Alec scoffed. "What do you think is in the back?" Rooms for rendezvous, for one thing. As for the other thing... well, he knew that too, but he also knew if he told her, she wouldn't believe anyway, would demand to be taken back there to see for herself. Things from the outside looked a little shady until you got on the inside, earned Katina's trust, and she let you in on the secret.
"You tell me," Max scowled. "You're the one that's been back there,"
She released an internal sigh, she wouldn't have to kick his ass after all, when he scowled, protesting, "I've never been back there!"
"Please," She rolled her eyes.
His eyes glinted and the side of his mouth curled in something small and telling. "I don't pay for sex, Max." His smile became even more wicked. Ugh, could he possibly be more full of himself? Like women were throwin' their underwear at him or something, yeah right-
"You done here?" A little blonde was smiling at her entreatingly, her eyes darting towards Alec's appraising smile almost hopefully, and Max frowned.
Ugh. What was it with him and blondes? Max glowered. Alec was leaning forward, saying 'yes' just as she ground out a 'no' and the blonde looked between them both for a few moments before finally retreating, resolving to come back later when the other, almost scary, girl had moved on. Max wondered why the hell Alec looked so unhappy. He'd wanted a lapdance from little tarty blondie? When they were out of here, she was kicking his ass so hard, he wouldn't be able to sit down for a week.
"Max," Alec frowned unhappily after the departing blonde. "You just scared off the last thing that could have saved you from having to dance for me." His eyes swung back to her and why was he almost pleading with her? "Why not just call it a night? Trust me when I tell you Logan has no idea what's going on here."
"And you do?" She hissed. She glanced over her shoulder, and Katina was still watching, taking a sip of water, maybe it was vodka, her eyes hard. Her head whipped back to Alec and she scowled. "Eyes on my face, Pretty Boy, you look down even once, and I will find a way to destroy you."
He was about to ask her what the hell she was talking about when her hips started swaying gently in time with the music.
"Max?" His eyes darted up towards her face. It was his worst nightmare, most fervent dream, come to life. He vaguely hoped that the blonde would come back, rescue him from doing something monumentally stupid... which he was sure to try to do if Max kept swaying before him.
"I dance for one song," She hissed, falling still in embarrassment. "Then you take me into the back so I can get this the hell over with,"
His eyes stayed on her face, so he got to see as Max transformed. Her normally severe lips lifted in a kittenish half smile. Her eyes, usually narrowed in annoyance, went hooded and dark. He shifted. And that long blonde wig was just so not helping him at all, really it just further disassociated her from the normally dark, closed off entity that she usually was. His eyes darted downwards as she started swaying once more and he realized that watching her get into character might very well kill him.
Max broke character to scowl, just for a moment, as his eyes darted downwards, to her gently moving hips. Her scowl faltered as she watched his eyes darken. Something that looked a whole lot like male appreciation moved across his face, something she hadn't gotten from a non-sleazeball (i.e. the men she had to chat up when workin' on one of Logan's cases) in a long, long while. The rhythm was slow, undulating, the lights pulsating, and her arms lifted over head as her hips moved more surely. Alec's lips pressed together, his eyes narrowed, unable to do anything other than track her sinuous movement, almost hypnotized.
The low lighting, alternating flashes of color, played across that long, blonde hair… glanced across sensuously moving abs… really made everything that much worse when she dipped to her knees, coming back up, hands moving slowly up her thighs, her abdomen, her breasts, fisting in the blonde wig, her head rolling backwards, lips gently parted, eyes mostly closed.
Not closed enough that she didn't see Alec's face twist in something a lot like pain, didn't see him shift once more, awkward, like he- Her eyes dipped down, but it was dark and his pants were loose and oh my god, she so did not just check him for arousal. She turned before his eyes could come back up to her face, could see the beginnings of the blush. A low groan came from behind and she glanced over her shoulder, but he was staring at the wall, the ceiling, anything other than her. She figured out why when his eyes darted towards her swaying, almost exposed ass once more before skittering away in kind of a panic. She couldn't help the smirk tossed over her shoulder. Their eyes connected. Hazel went almost black as he caught her little smirk and it probably wasn't anger. In fact, she knew it wasn't anger when his foot hooked around hers, made her teeter and topple back into him.
She crashed into his lap, he grunted, and a bouncer glanced their way, the sudden movement catching his eyes. Alec lifted his hands, like, see, no touching. She told herself she was only doing it to put the muscle-bound bouncer at ease when her arms lifted overhead, slid through his silky hair, and she moved against him, felt something at her back. Arousal was definitely a go.
She pressed her back into his front, her nails scraping at his neck now; there were no rules, after all, that strippers couldn't touch the customer. She slid against him, and he arched back into the chair, away from her, the smell of her, the feel of her, the need for her. His hands, still held up, hovered just millimeters from her arms, clenching almost helplessly, grasping at air, not touching her, but his face was pained, lookin' for all the world like he wanted to.
"Max," He grunted, unhappy, agonized, against the side of her face, "Why the hell are you doing this?" He had a feeling he knew. It was official; she lived to torture him.
"Shut up. I'm trying to make it convincing," She smiled slowly, releasing her hold on his neck, bringing her arms back down and reaching behind, sliding against tight muscle, grasping at tight thighs, holding him steady as she rocked against him once more, up and down and side to side. His head dropped back into the chair with a grunt.
But not before he caught the scent of something heady, something lush, something so thick and palpable in the air, he could practically taste it.
He vaguely wondered if it was dancing, or if it was dancing for him, that turned Max on.
Alec was biting the inside of his cheek, breathing heavily through nostrils, willing his blood to calm, his body to relax, when the song finally, and thankfully, came to an end. When she peeled her ass off of him. He stood slowly, praising God for dim lighting and jeans that hid his erection, before he grabbed at her hand and started pulling her away from the chair. A bouncer eyed him suspiciously, but when it became clear where he was dragging her smiling form, the man went back to lazily scanning the crowd.
Alec wasn't entirely sure how much he tossed at the man waiting by the door, just dug into his pants and blindly pulled out bills, barely pausing. It must've been enough 'cuz the man didn't come after them, just called out, "Twelve's free,"
One, two, four, six… Down the hallway to twelve, Max trotting on high heels to keep up, and Alec pulled her into the small room, fairly filled with the one piece of furniture, the oversized bed. Back here the music wasn't so overwhelming; a low throb moving through the walls.
"So," Max flicked blonde hair out of her eyes, "Where do you think they're keeping-"
The door fell shut behind her with a very loud and audible click, further quieting the noise from the hallway, and Max suddenly found herself very alone with a man that had turned and was watching her with burning eyes. Her words faltered and died and she took a slight step back.
"Relax," His eyes told her not to relax, "I'm not going to fuck you," But his body, all languid and loose, commanding, told her a different story, told her, if he wanted to, he could use it against her, make her beg for it.
Max swallowed, not in fear. "Don't be a pig,"
He took a few small steps, advancing as she retreated. "You know why I don't like strip clubs so much?"
Her back ran into the door. "Don't care," She swallowed again, but her mouth refused to be anything other than dry.
He ignored her, his tone almost conversational. "I mean, overdeveloped senses can be great… but strip clubs and transgenic noses just don't mix." A hard body pressed against hers, a thigh slid up between legs she hadn't known were parted. He wasn't looking her in the eyes anymore; he was looking at her lips, still glistening from the lip gloss, from the quick dart of her tongue. "All that cheap perfume and alcohol…"
"What are you getting at?"
"Just that my nose says you wouldn't make a very good stripper," He smiled slowly, sinfully, a smile of a man that would never, ever have to pay for sex.
"What?" She demanded, wondering why she should be insulted by that. "Why not?"
His hand slid down her side, glanced across her hip, drew her leg up around him and she gasped as he shoved suddenly, and surely, against her. "You enjoy it too much," He smiled into her ear.
She scowled, shoving his suddenly laughing form away. Her eyes darted downwards, looking for the proof of what she'd felt. "You're one to talk." She scowled, unable to stop her face from coloring.
He shrugged, still smiling. "I have a thing for blondes, so sue me."
She didn't sue him, but she did take a swing at him, and it didn't surprise her when he slid out of the way and grabbed at her, using her momentum to send them both crashing into the bed.
"I am not sleeping with you," She hissed, glaring up at him, her head relaxing back into the sheets.
He blinked. "What?" He demanded, pulling away slightly to better look her in the eye. "This was an accident! I don't want to sleep with you!"
"Please," Max rolled her eyes. "You've been trying to get in my pants since Manticore."
"I have not!" He defended. Then smiled wickedly. "Besides, you're not wearing pants. You're wearing chaps. Big diff."
She huffed in annoyance, pushing him off as she sat up, pretending not to notice as his eyes fell to her tightened abs. "Are you going to help me find these kidnapped girls or what?"
Alec pushed back into his knees, smiling broadly. "Max, you do know that Katina heads one of the biggest mail-order bride businesses in the world, right?"
Max's jaw dropped open.
"That slave ring that Logan probably worked you into a frenzy about? Those are men transporting very willing girls to the States so that they can marry lonely, rich old geezers and gain money, citizenship, and the chance at a better life. They spend the night here for a few days before traipsing off to get married." He shrugged. "If they get cold feet, Katina gives them the option of working here… which, according to immigration laws, is kind of illegal, but probably not what Loge-man was going for."
Max's jaw worked in frustration. "Are you kidding me?!" She demanded. She'd just… because Logan had said… and Alec, he… Augh!
He shrugged. "Maybe I don't get it, but it is legal, and the girls are willing. She tried to find me a wife, but I told her thanks, but no thanks, I was already kind of taken,"
Okay, maybe there were some more important things goin' on right now, but she still found herself demanding, "By who?"
"By responsibility, and helping you pick up transgenics, and with Jam Pony, and T.C. and everything." He frowned. "And willing or not, mail-order brides don't really sound like my idea of a party." His eyes flicked over again. "Now, cowgirls, on the other hand," His smile made a reappearance.
"Alec," She started warningly, leaning back into her elbows.
"I have a weakness," He defended, still smiling, leaning forward, over her. "You're tempting me,"
"Alec, that's not funny," She hissed as he pushed her to her back, as she glared at the plaster ceiling, as his lips grazed down her neck, down her collarbone, between her breasts.
"Good thing I'm not laughing," He murmured, and he was still going down, where the hell was he going?
"Alec, what are you doing?" And why was she just staring at the ceiling? Why was she almost paralyzed by the lust?
Steady hands grasped at the insides of her thighs, pushing her legs further apart, gently widening her to his gaze. His wicked lips pressed a full kiss to the soft skin just above the leather of the chaps before he murmured, "Nothin'," Then proved himself a liar by rolling his palm against the damp black material of the underwear that Katina had provided.
Max shot up, her cheeks blazing. "What are you doing?!"
"Nothing," He repeated firmly, soothingly, his hand resting lightly against her, his other hand slowly pushing her back down. "After ten minutes of smelling you, I just want a taste."
Max's brow furrowed as she dropped back into the bed. A taste? Her eyes widened. He couldn't possibly mean-
Max's eyes almost rolled back into her head.
Katina smiled approvingly as Max stepped gingerly from the back room. As she teetered her way back to the dressing room and her own skanky clothes on shaky legs.
"Come back, anytime," Katina pushed some bills into her hands, and Max blinked dumbly at them. She shook her head, sudden realization of what the money was for making her eyes widen. She tossed her cut of Alec's dirty money at some hobo, waiting for scraps, as she booked it out the back door, through the grungy, smelly alley.
She got into the car waiting for her, strangely silent.
"You didn't turn on the ear peice," Logan accused.
And thank god for that. Max remained quiet, blushing slightly.
"So?" Logan demanded.
"Can I borrow a glove?" Max asked, her voice strangled. He frowned in confusion and gestured at the glovebox of the car. Max pulled it open, pulled a glove out, pulled latex across her hand, turned, and popped Logan across the back of the head.
"What the hell?!" He came back up slowly, rubbing gingerly at his scalp.
"I got into the back, talked to some of the girls," Max scowled, still flushed, her angry voice loud in the small enclosed space. "It's a mail-order bride company, you big jerk."
"Max-"
Max shoved herself back into her seat, ripping off the blonde wig, tossing it into the back before yanking down the visor and flipping open the mirror.
"So no prostitution, then?" He sounded almost sad about it.
Max's voice went strangled once more and she wouldn't look at him. He caught her blush in the reflection of the visor's mirror as she pulled her hair from the cap that had kept it in place under the wig. "Use of the backrooms is sanctioned by the club, but they don't force any of the girls into it, just take a cut of the profits. That's pretty normal for these kinds of places, anyway."
"Max, what's wrong?" He glanced, frowning, at the one gloved hand in her lap, still squeezed into a fist. He wondered if she was considering hitting him again. His eyes swung up to her. "Did they make you dance or something?"
But Max wouldn't talk about it, and he didn't want to get popped again (almost made him feel a little bad for Alec) so just put the car into gear and started to slowly pull away. He frowned as he pulled out onto the street, moving slowly past the entrance.
"Hey," He frowned. "Isn't that Alec's bike?" He glanced at Max's blushing (again) face, still silent, and his gaze narrowed in suspicion. It was probably nothing, probably just coincidence… strip clubs always smelled like perfume and alcohol, sweat and sex, so just because Max-
"Can you take me to Alec's?" Max turned to face him, her mind suddenly made up.
"What?" He demanded. "Why?"
Max's eyes gleamed, and Logan caved, turning the steering wheel, because he had the feeling that whatever Max was planning, it probably wasn't nefarious, there'd probably just be some bloodshed involved. Maybe Alec had been in there; had given her a hard time, maybe that's why she was in such a strange mood.
Alec let himself into his dark apartment, rolling his neck. His fingertips pressed gently at one bruising cheekbone as he made his way to his bedroom. He felt bad for ditching Normal, but the side of his face hurt and he was still so ridiculously aroused, bein' in a place that catered to those kinds of needs wouldn't earn him a halo any faster. And with the scent of Max still so completely surrounding him, the sound of her cries so fresh in his ears, the taste of her still in his mouth, he just didn't know if anyone else could do it for him... Not that she had been particularly grateful once the languidness had left her limbs. Jeez, help a friend relieve a little tension and then as soon as you're done lending a helping hand, and mouth, they go and get all crazy on you. He was so miffed, he didn't even realize-
He whirled as a lamp clicked on, as light flooded one dark corner of his apartment, illuminating a figure lounging in his easy chair. He squinted, sensitive eyes rushing to keep up. "Maxie?"
Her voice was low, a little bit dangerous. "You owe me so, so big."
His tongue rolled in his cheek, his eyes glinting playfully, and she shuddered at memories of what that wicked, wicked tongue could do. "Owe you?" He finally asked. "If anything, Max, I think you owe me,"
"Fair is fair," She cocked one eyebrow, the dim light casting shadows across her face. "Eye for a eye… Dance for a dance." The corner of full lips curled into a smile. She shifted and light glanced across a miniskirt that shouldn't even be legal, especially when he was this horny.
He frowned in confusion, sauntering his way back to her slowly. "Wait… so you mean, you didn't come here to kill me?"
"No," She scoffed, "I came here to give you a lesson in abject humiliation." He came to a halt before her, her eyes gleamed up at him in the lamplight, her skin, pushed up by that corset top, called to him, and her face twisted into something wicked. "You owe me. Get dancin', Pretty Boy."
"No way!"
"Do it, or I'll-"
He rolled his eyes. "You'll what? Tattle on me to Logan? Tell him how you danced for me?" He reached forward, his hand slid around her neck, fisting in her own dark hair. He forced her head back as he leaned down, his breath glanced across the lips he couldn't look away from as he murmured, "Tell him how you kept saying my-"
Her heeled foot caught him right in the shin and he reared away in pain, releasing her in favor of hobbling around, clutching at his leg.
"Drama queen," She rolled her eyes.
"Bitch," He whined. And she knew she had already halfway won. She leaned back into the chair, arms folding across her chest.
"But I don't wanna," He frowned down at her, releasing his leg.
She shrugged, relaxed. "It's like I said, eye for an eye. Dance for a dance." He scowled, but would freeze, hair almost standing on end, when her low voice danced through the room… "Taste for a taste."
He stared at her for a long moment, before he finally managed a dumb, "Oh. Well, why didn't you say so?"